


Trust

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: Coping Blurbs [2]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s01e03 The Quadripartite Affair, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 21:12:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8549275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: Takes place during S1′s “The Quadripartite Affair,” when Illya is under the influence of the fear gas.  Napoleon does his best to regain his drugged partner's trust.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ksturf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ksturf/gifts).



Napoleon put his communicator away and now slowly knelt on the floor in front of his cowering partner.

“Illya?” he asked again.

His partner’s response was a pitiful whimper, after which he turned his face away.

“Go away!” he exclaimed, his voice breaking. “Go…!”

He couldn’t even finish; Illya broke into sobs, shaking in fear. And Napoleon felt his heart break to see his partner like this–so unlike his calm, unshakeable self.

“Illya…” Napoleon said, softly. He blinked, suddenly getting an idea,and then spoke in Russian. “Illya, _ty znayesh kto ya_?“

Illya didn’t stop shaking, but he did look back at Napoleon as his eyes rapidly blinked in fear.

“ _Ty znayesh kto ya_?” Napoleon asked again.

“ _N-Nyet_ ,” Illya said, shaking his head.

Napoleon exhaled; he’d had a feeling that the drug had rendered Illya unable to recognize him–why else would Illya lash out in fear against him? They had been partners for four years now, and had trusted each other with their lives on multiple occasions.

“ _Ya vash partner_ ,“ Napoleon said, gently. “Napoleon.”

“N… Napo…?” Slowly, Illya peeked out from the corner he had been trying to hide in.

“ _Ty pomnish menya?_ “

Illya looked at him with wide eyes–and very wide pupils in them.

“Napoleon….” he murmured, as though hardly daring to believe it. He gingerly held a trembling hand out in front of him. “C… Can I… hold your hand?”

 _Switching to English_ , Napoleon realized. _But this is still a good sign_ …

He extended his hand out, bringing it in front of Illya’s; Illya withdrew is slightly out of the fear response.

“Of course you can,” Napoleon said, switching back to English again. “If that’s what you want.”

Illya hesitated for a few more moments, but then grasped Napoleon’s hand. He gave the American’s hand a squeeze, and Napoleon could feel him tremble.

“It’s okay,” Napoleon said, softly. “You’ll be alright. I’m here.”

Still shaking, Illya managed a nod.

“ _Spacibo, Dorogoy_ …” he stammered.

“Of course.”

And he didn’t let go until, a few hours later, the fear gas had worn off at last.


End file.
